


Give me a Harbour

by NoHolds



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Sibling Love, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:51:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoHolds/pseuds/NoHolds
Summary: “I'm not- ashamed, of us," Waverly says, "Or anything, and I don't think she'll be- you know, Purgatory about it, but I can't-” her words choke off, panic rising white-hot in her throat.“Hey-” Nicole's awake, now, voice a little gravely with the late hour. “Waverly, it's alright. There's no hurry.”-(or, 4 times Waverly tried to come out to Wynonna, and one time she didn't have to)





	

**Author's Note:**

> More of a sibling fic than anything, really, b/c I cry about anything with a good sibling relationship (S/O to dimircharmer, my actual real-life sibling)
> 
> Title from Medicine Man, by Dortothy (whose entire ROCKISDEAD album would make an excellent soundtrack for Wynonna Earp)

1.

“Hey.” Waverly says, three days after she'd cornered Nicole in Nedley's office. “Wynonna, I-” and then she doesn't know what to say, after that.

Wynonna is slumped over the kitchen island, coffee in hand, the angry lines of her wiped smooth with early-morning sun and a rare good night's sleep. She turns, looks at Waverly standing in the doorway, arms wrapped across her nervous stomach. Waverly almost gives up right then- “Whoops, wrong room” and an about-face, but-

Wynonna gives her a little smile. Beckons her over with a tilt of her head, and Waverly moves on instinct, padding barefoot into the kitchen without even thinking about it, feet slap-slapping on tile.

Like she's still six years old, following Wynonna on blind reflex.

Wynonna's smile crooks up at one corner (a little bitter, but what about her isn't- Wynonna is Horehound, Waverly thinks, she is Rue; sour, but healing, just maybe). She pours a mug of coffee and slides it towards Waverly without looking, chipped ceramic and steam.

So Waverly sits down to drink, chair scooted close to Wynonna's. Her feet still swing a few inches off the ground when she sits at the island, the floor just out of reach.

“You know I've always liked a challenge,” Waverly blurts out, without quite meaning to.

Wynonna takes a drink of her milk-pale coffee, eyebrows raised.

“You know- done things that scared me, or-” Waverly swallows the back half of her sentence with a sip of coffee (black, no sugar, like she'd taught herself to like, the smallest and youngest in a house of loud, hard people).

Wynonna smiles, bumps her shoulder gently against Waverly's. “Like that time we went out for your birthday-”

“Oh, Wynonna-” Waverly looks down at the chipped mica countertop. “Don't-” (if she looses momentum now, her nerve will fail her entirely).

“You were- what, eight?”

“Seven,” Waverly says, soft.

“Right- you remember, we went to that burger place and Willa said you should probably order off the kid's menu- you wouldn't be able to finish a whole burger.”

Waverly smiles, faintly. “I got the biggest one on the menu.”

Wynonna nods enthusiastically, caught up in it. “It had some dumb name- the No Fear...”

“The 'Don't Fear The Reaper',” Waverly quotes. She can still see the cheap laminated menus, smell the fry-grease. “A Boogie's Burger Specialty.”

“And you ate the whole thing!” Wynonna cackles, too-sweet coffee forgotten. “And threw up twice on the way home. You were so smug about it, though-”

“Yeah, well-” Waverly says. Stops.

“Sorry,” Wynonna shakes her head. “What were you going to say?”

 _Something that scares me_ , Waverly thinks, but the moment is gone. “Nothing,” she says, eventually, stomach sick with nerves, with the memory of the too-big Don't Fear The Reaper burger.

Unbidden, her throat chokes over, and Wynonna's eyes go soft with concern. “Hey- you can- talk to me, if you- I mean, I know I haven't exactly been-”

Waverly throws herself, desperately, into a hug, tears pricking at her throat, and Wynonna hugs back without hesitation, warm and solid and _there_.

So- Waverly doesn't come out, that day, but there's this:

The smell of coffee, Wynonna's too-sweet and Waverly's bitter-black. The early morning sun. The old, worn-in comfort of the homestead, alien and familiar at once, like bad deja-vu.

And Wynonna, Waverly's _sister_ , in Purgatory and there to stay, hugging her without question, smelling like sleep and metal and gunsmoke and not leaving, not wanting to leave.

 

2.

“Dudes dig scars.” Wynonna tells Waverly, with a smirk and real panic in her eyes, looking over a cut that would have been a bullet hole a few millimeters to the left.

“Do chicks?” Waverly blurts out, stomach roiling with nerves, half wanting to snatch the words back out of the air, half glad it's out in the open now, she's said it,

But Wynonna just tips her head to the side, a little, a small fond smile catching the corners of her eyes. Waverly can _see_ the question she's about to ask, or maybe the quip she's about to make, the in breath-

Then there's a shout, and the door slams open, and the moment is gone, lost to frantic action.

 

3.

Wynonna _almost_ catches them kissing, one morning, Waverly leaning up on her tiptoes, Nicole's eyes fond and soft, head tipping down-

they jump apart, guiltily, like _teenagers,_ when Wynonna walks in, and Waverly's got that familiar feeling her her gut, like she's about to pitch over the top of a rollercoaster, this sick-anxious anticipation, and she opens her mouth to explain, but-

Wynonna's already forgotten what she almost saw (she always was a little wrapped up in her own world). “I slept with Doc,” she blurts out, and then it's easier to react to that, instead of saying

“And I'm _sleeping_ with Nicole.” Because it sounds good in Waverly's head but it's bizarrely hard to say out loud.

 

4.

“I can't tell her,” Waverly says, one night, curled next to Nicole on her little couch, something forgettable playing on TV.

“Hmm?” Says Nicole, where she'd been drifting off on Waverly's shoulder.

“Wynonna.” Waverly says. “I'm not- ashamed, of us, and I don't think she'll be- you know, _Purgatory_ about it, but I can't-”

“Hey-” Nicole's awake, now, voice a little gravely with the late hour. “Waverly, it's alright. There's no hurry.”

“And I know that, but it shouldn't be so _hard_ to say- like, I go up to her, and open my mouth, and the words just won't come out! I mean, for God's sake, I fight-” Waverly blinks. “Uh, I fight- off drunk patrons at Shorty's, so this should be easy, but-”

Nicole winds an arm around her shoulder. “Hey, I get it. Believe me, Waverly, I don't think it's easy for anyone, alright? It took me _months_ to tell my best friend, once I'd decided to. It'll come.”

“I _know_ ,” Waverly says, “But _now_ you don't have any trouble with it, and I'm-” _still the smallest, the youngest,_ Waverly thinks. _Still the scared one_.

“One of the bravest, strongest people I know.” Nicole cuts in. “Waverly Earp, you are smart, and good, and you have more courage in your pinky finger than most people have at all.” She kisses Waverly on the top of the head. “Give it time.”

“Okay,” Waverly says, soft, and tucks closer into Nicole's side, warm and a little drowsy, the blue glow of the TV the only light for miles, washing the room underwater, dreamlike.

“I love you,” Waverly wants to say, abruptly, half-wrapped in Nicole's scratchy old quilt, washed in the solid clean smell of her, soap and leather and men's deodorant.

She can't seem to get those words out, either.

 

5.

“So,” Wynonna says, after Willa and the possession and- all of it. “Officer _Haught_ , huh?”

Waverly doesn't say anything, but she feels a blush light her up collarbones-to-eartips. She ducks her head to hide what she's sure is a dopey grin.

“You know, I _was_ wondering about your taste, with Champ,” Wynonna jibes, “But Nicole's a solid nine, so-”

Waverly smacks her on the shoulder with a “ _Wynonna,_ ” this weird relief washing through her chest light-hollow, like honeycomb.

Wynonna smiles, then, rolls her eyes. “Alright, come here,” she says, pulling Waverly into a hug, and it feels safe the way Wynonna says their family had used to, back in the fuzzy corners of Waverly's memory, before anything had gone wrong.

And- Wynonna's gross, sort of sweaty, blood matted in her hair, and her snow-damp clothes are leeching cold into Waverly, but-

she rests her chin on top of Waverly's head and says, “You know I'll love you no matter what, right?”

Waverly sniffles, and Wynonna squeezes her shoulders, says,

“And, besides, I totally screwed Heather in eleventh grade, so-”

Waverly smacks her on the shoulder and laughs, wetly. Can't say anything now, either, just presses her head into Wynonna's sternum and tries not to cry and thinks, _family_ , and for the first time in so long it doesn't feel like loss.

**Author's Note:**

> NGL, kinda wrote this out of frustration @ seeing all those coming out fics where the party who's in the closet is pressured into coming out by their S/O because "Do you feel ashamed of meeee??" No, bro. Coming out is scary and too often actually dangerous. Chill about it. 
> 
> ANYWAY, IDK if anyone's still reading Wynonna Earp fanfic but drop me a comment if you did! Con/Crit welcome.


End file.
